Fireworks
by PartyManners
Summary: My first story! One shot. Clarke has a PTSD flashback from his time in the Marines while he's on the job and snaps.


The sun was so big and so hot it felt as if it were going to swallow the city of Chicago whole and I'd be nothing but a mid-day snack. Long, hot summers in Afghanistan and Iraq prepared me for this, but I swear to God, this blistering heat made me feel like I was going to melt like the Wicked Witch. The humidity didn't help much either; my dammed shirt was sticking to my back. Plus, it's the 4th of July. 4th of July means absolute chaos; it means I don't get to just sit my ass down and relax.

"I propose, a water gun fight," Otis declared as he walked into the common room. The top half of his gray Chicago Fire Department shirt and his hair were already soaking though; it looked as if he just came from a water gun war.

"Yeah, a water gun fight. Great idea." Serveride remarked sarcastically.

"You know what? I'm down!" Cruz said, and soon received a high-five from Otis. Those two agreed on everything. They called themselves Crotis… There definitely had to be some bro-mance thing going on there.

Then, the bells rang. The cursed bells.

"Damn!" Otis whined, probably still hopeful about the water gun fight.

So, it was a house fire. Some idiot was fooling around with firecrackers. And unfortunately, that idiot and two of his friends were still in the house.

The crew and I ran in, ready to save lives. "Fire Department, call out!" Casey yelled, but there were no responses. Severide, Casey, and Mills made their way up to the 2nd floor, while Cruz, Hermann, and I checked all the rooms on the first floor. Then, there was the screaming; it was coming from behind a closed door. Cruz gave the door a firm kick, but it wouldn't budge, so I took the axe I had been holding to it. In no time, I busted the door open, and Cruz ran in to help the man onto his feet and out of the burning house. Moments later, Casey came helping a man down the stairs, and Severide and Mills carried the last man, who didn't seem as lucky as the other two guys.

Calmly, just as schools instruct the children to do when there's a fire, we made our way out of the house and brought the smoke-intoxicated men, as well as one severely burned one, to the ambulance.

It was then, that the fireworks started going off. The cursed fireworks. The more cursed than the cursed bells, fireworks. Dawson and Shay drove off in the ambulance, but the rest of the crew, as well as neighborhood residents, looked up, smiles forming on many of their faces. I, on the other hand, jumped. High and wide.

Severide and Mouch, as well as probably some residents, looked at me with confused expressions. "What are you looking at?" I immediately snapped, defensive and suddenly extremely tense. _Godfuckingdammit _this was just like Afghanistan. It was just like having RPG's and automatic weapons fired at me, and seeing my friends shot and blown to pieces. Well, at least I thought it was, and I couldn't get myself out of that mindset.

"Hey, man, calm down. What's the matter with you?" Severide addressed me, a slightly snarky tone to his voice.

_Is he against me too? Is here to have me killed too? _"Get away from me!" I demanded, my heart racing faster, my brain loosing touch with reality. Everyone was staring now, and the crew slowly made their way towards me, seemingly surrounding me.

_I said get away!_ My mind yelled, _what are they doing? Are they all after me? They're all plotting against me, aren't they? They started with the fireworks… no the guns and RPGS, then this? _"I said get away!" I now voiced my insanity, once again. This time, I lifted up the axe I'd been carrying and pointed it at Serveride. _He was the leader of this, he was their leader._ "Are you behind this, are you?" I screamed, "Get away or I swear to God I'll lay you out!" I continued, panicking even more now.

"Seriously, what the hell's your problem?" Severide shouted back, not sure what to make of the situation.

"Hey, Clarke," Casey spoke this time, calmly. His hands were up as if he were surrendering; "We're not here to hurt you. Put the axe down." His voice remained calm, though he was just as confused as Severide was.

I stared at my fellow firefighter for a moment, not sure whether or not I could believe. I decided I couldn't. "No, NO!" My voice rose significantly on the second _No,_ and I was panting heavily now.

"Clarke, I demand you to put the axe down now!" Boden spoke up, his voice as menacing and as stern as ever. I spun 180 degrees to face him, and the axe still up, but pointing at Boden this time. "No, no, no, no!" I repeated, my voice quieter this time, as it started to shake. _No, no, no, no, no…. _ I kept saying to myself. _What was happening? _

"This can't be happening!" I cried out and fell to my knees. I put my hands up to my face as tears started streaming down it, and started shaking slightly. Cruz quickly grabbed the axe, and Mills, my first friend at firehouse 51, slowly made his way towards me. He kneeled down beside me and gently put his hand on my shoulder, to which I slightly flinched from the touch. "Hey, it's okay, it's okay," he told me in a soothing voice, and just like a little kid, I buried my head into his chest and cried.

Normally, I never freak out. Usually, _or more sometimes_, I remain level headed, but today, it got to me. The fireworks did at least. So, I cried. Not thinking about the fact I was crying like a baby in front of my friends and coworkers, and in front of neighborhood residents who would generally see me as a hero, but today saw me as a mentally unstable basket case. And despite that all, I still cried. Mills let me too. His arms were wrapped around my shoulders, and he patted me slowly and rhythmically on my back, just in the way people do when they're comforting someone.

Around a minute later, I found my way back to my feet. My eyes and face were red and I kept my head bowed down as I walked back to the Squad truck, with Mills walking alongside me, his arm elongated around my shoulder.

"Sorry," I breathed to Serveride as I passed by him, only giving him a quick glance. He gave me a nod in return.

In silence, we all loaded back into the trucks, and we drove back to the firehouse in silence too. The drive was only 5 minutes, but it felt like it took forever. The whole time, I kept my head down, and my eyes pinned to my feet. I was still nervous, incredibly embarrassed, and just felt _drained. _

I promptly made my way to the sleeping area once we got back to the firehouse, while everyone else shuffled into the common room. Desperately wanting to be alone, I fell back onto my bed, and closed my eyes.

In the 40 minutes I was asleep, Ambulance 61 and Truck 81 had been called out once again. I still wanted to sleep more and be left alone, mainly out of embarrassment for thinking my whole crew was going to kill me, and threatening to kill them all. But knowing I'd have to face them eventually, I manned up, and reluctantly made my way into the common room.

All chatter came to an abrupt end when I walked in, and everyone stared. Even Dawson and Shay, who had obviously heard the news. I took a deep breath, and continued walking forward, then took an open seat in front of the TV. The Cubs game was on, so at least I could concentrate on that. Still, I could feel the heaviness of everyone's eyes staring down at me. No one uttered a single word either; it was so quiet, I swear I could hear a needle drop. Even Boden, who happened to be in the room, just stared.

Finally getting the sense that no one was going to say anything until either I said something, or left the room, I stood up, and faced everyone. "Look, I-I'm sorry," I said, looking around at everyone. "I apologize for anything I said or did," I paused. "I freaked out on you guys, and I'm sorry, I should have had better control of my actions, and it won't happen again." It still seemed as if everyone was waiting for something though; they'd barely moved, barely blinked. "It… The fireworks, brought back bad memories for me, and as ridiculous as it sounds, I thought- I thought I was under attack." I spat out the last of what I had to say and got a nod from everyone in the room.

"It's okay," Severide finally said, which was followed by a,"You're forgiven," from Boden. And those last two words felt like a weight was just lifted off my chest.

"C'mon, sit back down, watch the game!" Mouch invited me back to the chair with a smile, and I gladly did just as he said.


End file.
